


Where Do We Go From Here?

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek The Gentle Seasons Series [40]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Developing Relationship, Embarrassed McCoy, Embarrassment, M/M, Protective Spock, The Random Blurt Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 06:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Spock is trying to appease McCoy who has embarrassed himself with a random blurt out.  But it all ends well as they decide to take a cozy walk beneath a vast expanse of evening stars.





	Where Do We Go From Here?

“What do you do when you don’t have anywhere else to turn, Spock?”

“I do not know, Dr. McCoy.”

They were sitting in the dimly lit bar. It was nearly closing time, the bartender was glaring at them, but they were trying to ignore the sullen looking guy.

“You didn’t have to follow me, you know.”

“I know, Doctor.”

“I’m glad that you did, though.”

Spock said nothing, but sat a few moments with McCoy in companionable silence.

McCoy winced. "That bartender hates our guts, you know. He's wanting to get home to his own family."

Spock barely glanced at the figure brooding in the shadows behind the bar. "I know. But there are still a few minutes before closing."

"That late, huh?” McCoy frowned. "It's past your bedtime."

"And yours."

"We're talking about your health here at the moment, not mine. I'm sure you've got better things to do besides sitting here with me. Hell, you could be meditating and trying to warm up a section of cold floor with your butt. Just think of it! You'd be doing two jobs at once! You could multi-task! Here, all you're getting done is holding that barstool down."

"I am keeping you company, also," Spock declared stoutly.

"Damn boring task you've set out for yourself," McCoy muttered. "Better be off with you now. Go on. Scoot!"

“I will wait until you are ready to leave.”

“That’s your personal doctor talking to you, reminding you to take care of your health.”

“I well understand what you are saying and I am also well aware of who is saying it. And I will leave here when you leave.”

“Damn stubborn--” McCoy muttered.

Spock shifted and made himself comfortable, but the movement told McCoy that Spock was actually signaling that he was settling in for the long haul. Spock’s ass had taken root on the barstool beside McCoy. And nothing short of a wench truck and a hoist were going to move him, least of all McCoy’s feeble verbal attempts to send him on his solitary way.

What could McCoy have possibly done to inspire loyalty like that, especially after what he had just done so emphatically and so publicly? It made McCoy feel humble, and very thankful.

And also very embarrassed.

“Hell, Spock, I didn’t mean for this to happen. You don’t need a mess like this.”

“Neither do you.”

“You’re worse than a damn collie! Loyal to the bone, ain’t ya?!”

“I have been called many things, but never a collie.”

McCoy’s grin flashed in the darkness. “Not all of your humor is unconscious, is it? You knew exactly what you were saying this time.”

“I oftentimes do when people think otherwise.”

McCoy turned back to his drink. “But you’ll still never win the comic of the year award. At least you wouldn’t at any stand-up places where I’ve been.” He pursed his lips. “Just at mine.”

“You own a stand-up comic club?”

“Yeah,” McCoy answered with a smirk. “It’s called ‘Le Sickbay De L’Enterprise.’”

“I believe that you just fractured your French, Doctor.”

“I didn’t just fracture my French, Spock. I tore it all to hell.” He thought. “It’s been awhile. It’s the little words that will throw you a curve. The articles and the prepositions. And then the verbs. Verbs are hell in foreign languages. I knew guys back in undergraduate school who got lost while trying to conjugate verbs in the Romantic Languages. As far as I know, they are still lost in the future conditional tense.”

“The way I understand it, technically speaking, the conditional is a mood and not a tense.”

“Now they tell me,” McCoy muttered.

“I am certain that you knew that at the time. I believe that I have heard that you won awards in the study of languages, especially with French.”

“Well, I had a special interest in it, you see. It’s the language of love, Mr. Spock,” McCoy said with a wink that Spock probably didn’t see and a fake poke to the ribs that Spock never felt. McCoy just made the gestures toward him, as if they were both in on some big joke. “Women like to hear guys speak French, whether it’s used correctly or not. Know what I mean? It means that the guy thought enough of them to make the effort.”

“I have had little experience with the ways of courtship as practiced on Earth. Our traditions of mating are quite different on Vulcan.”

“Well, for one thing, we don’t call them ‘traditions of mating.’ Kinda takes all of the romance and spontaneity outa of the proceedings, if you know what I mean. That sounds like Old Farmer Brown is trying to get last year’s spring heifers knocked up by the Emerson’s stud bull before the snow flies.”

“That does not sound very romantic to me at all.”

“It would if you were Old Farmer Brown’s heifers. Or the Emerson’s stud bull.”

"I suppose that it would be a matter of perspective."

"Yeah. It's all in the way that you look at it, ain't it?" McCoy studied the contents of his glass, then finally took a sip of the liquid. He grimaced as the bourbon burned its way down his throat, but it still wasn’t reaching where he was hurting. He didn't know if he could ever reach that spot.

“I’m sorry that you got humiliated,” McCoy finally whispered so low that even Vulcan hearing could barely pick up the sounds.

“I know that you regret the outcome of the circumstances that recently befell us--”

“Oh, hell, Spock! I embarrassed the hell outa the both of us! I’d deserve it if you never talked to me again! 

"I believe that not such a radical form of reaction should occur--"

"Why? Why the hell not?!" McCoy demanded as he slammed down his drink and faced Spock fully. "Don't you have any backbone?! Aren't you gonna demand to know why I said it?! Or didn't you understand what I said meant?!"

"Oh, I understood what you said meant, Doctor."

"So?! Are you wanting an apology?! Is that why you're sticking so damn close?!" He turned away in disgust. "Well, I'm not taking it back! And I ain't apologizing, neither!"

"I am not asking for an apology."

"Why the hell not?! I would, if I were you!"

"You are not me."

"Well, you better thank all of the gods you've ever believed in and some that you've only heard about that you were saved from that calamity!"

"I was not complaining about the whimsical order of birth selection, Doctor. You were."

"Exasperating little twit--" McCoy grumbled under his breath. The rest that he said was unintelligible, even for a Vulcan. Then: "Just be glad that I'm the one who got to be me."

"A fact for which I am very happy," Spock added.

McCoy looked startled. "You are?"

"Then I would not have heard you say what you recently said."

"It wasn't the 'how' I said it or the 'why.' It was the 'when,'" McCoy mumbled, his misery back.

"Well, perhaps a shipwide party for all the crew with their families and an open microphone were not the most appropriate place or means to announce to someone that he is loved, but the presentation was most affective and quite clear. There was no room left for misinterpretation. Even the youngest child present knew that something naughty had been said."

"Well, yeah, to compliment you on how handsome you looked by inviting you to get screwed to the Captain's table for the evening's entertainment was kinda gross, I don't care how you look at it. Ladies screamed and a few even fainted. Gentlemen were threatening to horsewhip me. There was hardly anyone without a reaction of some sort, clear down to the kiddies snickering about the silliness of grown up stuff. Kirk's probably still laughing his fool head off. It'll take a month before he can even look at me without grinning. And I'll never live it down. It was a fiasco all the way around."

"No, it was not. I was very flattered by what you said."

"Yeah, that was the reaction I was wanting outa you, alright."

"I believe that Jim was envious. He said that he wished that someone would make him that offer with that much sincerity."

"A drunk will always tell you the truth about anything," McCoy said miserably. "That's one thing you can count on."

"And I do."

"Eh?"

"I knew that you were telling me the truth about loving me."

"Well, yeah, fat lot of good that'll do me now," McCoy grumbled.

"Maybe the offer of how we could proceed after the disclosure of that information might not have been the most prudent, though. "

"That's the understatement of the year," McCoy scoffed.

"Doctor, you asked me why I followed you here, did you not?"

"Well, yeah, I did. I figured you were just being a buddy. One helluva buddy, now that I think about it," he muttered to himself.

"Did it ever occur to you that I am here because I cannot be anywhere else?"

"Eh?"

"In the general confusion after your announcement, you never learned if I was interested in your proposition, did you?"

McCoy's eyes got big. "Huh?"

"Are you interested to know that the reason why I am here now is because I love you back?"

McCoy's grin was huge. "Oh, hell! Really?"

"Most assuredly."

"Well, if that don't beat all--" McCoy mumbled as he looked toward the hazy bar and stared off into middle space.

"Yes. It does," Spock answered as he looked straight ahead, too.

They tried to make out each others' reflections in the bleary glass, but smoke and dim lights had greatly reduced what they could see.

Finally, McCoy spoke without turning. "Mr. Spock, ah--"

"Yes, Doctor?"

McCoy turned toward him. "You know, Mr. Spock, there is no reason for us to be embarrassed here--"

"I am not. Of course, I did not make the announcement over a live microphone to a mixed group of partygoers the way you did, either."

"Yeah, well, thanks for pointing that out."

"You are most welcome, Doctor," Spock said cordially with a clear conscious and a smile as innocent as the angels on high.

McCoy saw an excellent opportunity to point out how he was using sarcasm to the literal Vulcan. The moment was golden. The verbal victory would be his. Spock would be crushed and subdued.

He would finally leave McCoy alone.

Leave, as in physically leave, that is.

And McCoy would be left all alone at the bar.

Well, that evil-eyed bartender would still be here, but McCoy decided that he didn't count in McCoy's scenario anymore.

McCoy tried to remember the important thing here. He could start an argument with Spock to clear the air and might even make some well-founded points. But he would also probably be going to bed by himself tonight. The question became whether he wanted to be right or wanted to get laid?

McCoy bit his tongue and gave Spock one of his most engaging smiles. "Mr. Spock, could I interest you in a stroll around the waterfront? It's a moonless night, and we'll be able to see millions of stars. There'll be stars in the skies and stars reflected in the water. They will be all around us, just like we're used to having them. Being out on the wharf will be almost like being in space."

Spock's eyes danced with the suggestion. Really, he could be quite childlike and charming when he wanted to be.

"Oh, that would be wonderful, Doctor," he said with shining eyes. "And I will point out my favorite ones to you."

"I think I'd like that," McCoy agreed as they slid off the barstools. But he knew that he wouldn't have to look up in the heavens for his favorite stars tonight. He was looking at them in Spock's eyes. And their lights were only for him.

**Author's Note:**

> McCoy didn't mention it, but he and Spock would also be able to see the Perseid Meteor shower when they go out to see the stars tonight.
> 
> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
